The Last and First Daily Dispatch

We need a Zero Day . . .

Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a day in-between months—when it wasn’t June and it wasn’t July, just a day floating freely in the timestream?

Day Zero wouldn’t be the end of Q2 or the beginning of Q3 or part of any rigid structure. Not yesterday’s tomorrow or tomorrow’s yesterday . . .

Perhaps each of us would get one Zero Day to spend every year, and we could choose to put it anywhere on the calendar. We could plan ahead or spend it impulsively!

Well, as you might have guessed—I’m spending mine right now.

Here in EP world, the present “today” exists somewhere vaguely “after” the most recent Daily Dispatch and “before” the next one.

Putting it another way: This email is the last of a planned week of posts that got stretched out by circumstances. And it’s also the first of a planned series that might or might not happen over the course of seven days, but will be comprised of seven Daily Dispatches.

I’ve thought about all this because I enjoy writing shorter, more frequent Dispatches. I like moving things along in smaller pieces that build toward bigger ideas. But the problem comes along when it’s time to culminate the big idea—and the next thing I know, it’s a week later.

Which is not to minimize the role played by external events—a significant, currently uncontrollable factor. And the result of all that interplay is an inconsistent rhythm of EP posts.

Here’s a relevant analogy, of sorts: I’ve just gotten my found kittens several “enrichment” toys, hoping they will burn off some predatory energy. It’s fascinating to watch them pluck kibble from the puzzle feeder or try to dispatch the kicker toy.

But! I don’t want oddly intermittent posts to turn EP into an email puzzle feeder. So I’m aiming for 7 Dispatches over the next 10 days—and we’ll see how I do.

Lucky for us all, I have a really terrific story for starters: the most delightful and thought-provoking Tarot fiction I’ve come across in forever is available for you to watch on a couple of streaming networks right now.

The Librarians and The House of Cards

Quick background:

• [2004-2008] There were three made-for-TV movies featuring “The Librarian”—a polymath nerd who evolves into an Indiana Jones-style adventurer. They are all still fun to watch, and they establish the series world, in which “magic is real” and it's infused into physical objects that must be safeguarded in the Library. Magical villains and creatures are also real, and must be subdued.

• [2014-2018] Then there was a series spin-off called The Librarians, in which the original Librarian gets three assistants, along with a guardian who protects them all from physical and moral dangers. There are four seasons, each with its own story arc, totaling forty-two episodes. The series world becomes exponentially more complex as we go along, incorporating many (many) themes. Season One is a lot of fun, and though the arcs become progressively darker, each season has some excellent episodes. They are easily found if you want to catch up.

• [2025] Now there’s a very classy reboot—The Librarians: The Next Chapter—which is in its Season One debut. The original Librarians are still out there somewhere trying to keep a variety of magical crises at bay. However—a dashing 19th-century Librarian (Vikram) gets stranded in our current world, and acquires two new assistants (Lysa and Connor) along with a new guardian (Charlie). Each episode so far abounds with fish-out-of-water humor, derring-do, magical lore, unexpected twists, and great European scenery.

So here we are at episode 6 of season 1: “And the House of Cards.”

To be honest—I’m stumped for a summary that would make sense outside of the series world. But no one has yet provided one online (although there are good accounts of the first four episodes on Wikipedia), so I’ll just have to watch it again!

On a second viewing, here’s my best shot:

1. The team becomes magically separated, leaving Vikram alone in the Library Annex (their headquarters) while the others find themselves in the midst of an Agatha Christie-style mystery, complete with a manor house, a cocktail party, and an array of colorful characters.

2. The guests are summoned to a Tarot reading given by their hostess, Madame Visconti. She lays out three cards, and soon enough someone at the table is stabbed with a magical artifact. The victim is obviously a type-cast Fool—representing one of the three cards drawn.

3. A series of familiar tropes (more murders, red herrings, hidden rooms, etc.) unfolds as the mystery plot continues. Lysa and Connor try to figure out what’s going on, while Charlie tries to keep them from getting killed. At the same time, in a parallel dimension, Vikram meets Madame Visconti and gets a Tarot reading.

4. As a result, he is able to reunite with the rest of the team, and together they uncover a surprising reason behind the interlocking mysteries. It seems the Visconti family had originally used the Tarot cards as part of their scheme to imprison the (literal) Devil. Due to a mistake made by the Librarians at the very beginning of the episode, the guards assigned to prevent the Devil’s escape—represented by three characters at the house party—have now been killed. So the Librarians must unmask the Devil and restore his imprisonment . . .

I’ll tell you “tomorrow” how they do it! And I’ll share some insightful observations about Tarot made in the course of the episode.

But if you’re wondering (as I was) whether such a legend about the Visconti family ever existed—the answer is basically “no,” but . . .

My AI research assistant came up with some very interesting related stories, including this one:

A Pact with the Devil? The Legend of the Milan Duomo

The most direct folkloric precedent for the plot of "And the House of Cards" is a well-documented Milanese legend concerning the city's most famous landmark, the Duomo di Milano. Construction of this magnificent Gothic cathedral was initiated by Gian Galeazzo Visconti in 1386. And according to the legend, the reason for its construction was far from pious.

The story goes that the Devil appeared to Visconti in a dream, delivering a stark ultimatum: the Duke was to build a great church, but it had to be decorated with a host of diabolical and monstrous images. If Visconti refused or failed, Satan would claim his soul.

This legend provides a popular folkloric explanation for the Duomo's most striking feature: its exterior is adorned with over 3,400 statues, a significant number of which are grotesque gargoyles and monstrous heads. This tale directly links the Visconti's greatest act of civic and religious patronage to a command from the Devil, inextricably intertwining their legacy of piety with a whisper of diabolical influence.

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I’m keeping the rest of the commentary for the next Dispatch, because it connects intrinsically with a further discussion of “Tarot thinking.”

So look for more soon—and as always, thanks for reading. C